


Reunion

by Amariahellcat



Series: Arisa Shepard [4]
Category: Mass Effect Trilogy
Genre: Biotic Shepard, F/M, Fluff, Mass Effect 3, No Shepard without Vakarian, Paragon Commander Shepard, Reunions, beginning of the game
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-08-10
Updated: 2017-08-10
Packaged: 2018-12-13 20:18:36
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,400
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11767584
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Amariahellcat/pseuds/Amariahellcat
Summary: When Shepard is released from house-arrest, it’s to fight for her life again. Thankfully, the one person she can always count on isn’t hard to find, and she’s looking forwards to the reunion.





	Reunion

**Author's Note:**

> My take on the reunion at the beginning of ME3. Nothing hardcore here because I can't seem to write smut to save my life right now. Enjoy! ♥

When nearly the first words out of Anderson’s mouth are  _‘Looking good, Shepard. Maybe a little **soft**  around the edges_.’ Arisa tries not to seem offended.

_Tries,_ being the keyword; she can’t quite stop herself from putting a hand over where he’d patted her stomach, scowl likely ( _hopefully_ ) registering as part of her confusion at being summoned.

Six months in house arrest, and  _now_  the council wants to see her; she’s pretty sure she knows what’s happened, and it’s nothing good.

Six months of no visitors asides from the occasional Alliance personnel - James Vega was a semi-constant presence, though he mostly relayed messages and brought her any requested ( _approved_ ) items - and limited access to the extranet.

No real news, no contact with any friends or squad mates. Five minute showers.

Admittedly, a nice suite with a comfy bed and good, hot meals - but she’d barely been able to  _eat_  those full meals, most of the time. She was used to Serving - used to grabbing a protein bar between missions, surviving off coffee and rations for days at a time.

Even on the SR2 with Cerberus’ funding, she hadn’t stopped to indulge in the bigger meals Gardiner managed to cook up - never felt like eating a full course meal, while trying to survive.

And considering her only exercise has been what she could do without equipment - situps, pushups, squats, you name it - she really doesn’t think she’s done  _bad_.

Nothing burns calories like dodging bullets and barely eating, though; she doesn’t want to look at the scale.

_My clothes still fit… but for all I know they might have upped the size and not told me. Fuck._

_Just another reminder of being on lockdown for six months._

_I miss my ship. I miss my crew, my squad. I miss **Garrus**._

She really,  _really_  missed Garrus, if she were being honest, and damn if her memories of him hadn’t helped keep her going.

She’d tried to send a message, once - and the Alliance had blocked it, just as they’d blocked every other message she’d ever tried to send.

So while the fact that the Reapers have arrived is a very,  _very bad thing_ , she’s damn happy to be out of that room.

There’s no time to dwell on vanity or appearances, then; the second Anderson puts a gun in her hands she’s back in fight-mode and charging ahead.

_Back in the fight and running like hell; story of my damn life._

* * *

 

 Palaven’s been hit just as badly as Earth, and her chest is tight as they land on Menae, looking up at the burning planet in anger and despair.

_You’d better be okay, Garrus._

They haven’t even landed before they need to start shooting down husks, clearing the landing zone and pushing ahead into the Turian camp.

_The Primarch is dead_ , they’re informed, General Corinthus barely looking up from his map,  _We need the Comm Tower back up and running so we can figure out who the **next**  Primarch is._

So that’s where they head - taking out waves of husks as they go - and she has to admit, it feels good to be  _useful_  again, she and Vega standing watch while Liara fixes the Tower.

Returning to the General gives them a name -  _Adrien Victus_  - and then  _that voice_  rings out and her whole body immediately turns towards it, drawn in and startled and  _have I finally lost it or is it actually-_

Then Garrus is there, all swagger and confidence and healing scars, new armor and upgraded weapons, mandibles flared wide in a smirk and eyes locked on her just as hers are locked on him.

“You’re alive.” is all she can manage, to damn happy and relieved to see him in one piece, to know he’s  _not_  burning up above on Palaven.

“I’m hard to kill. You should know that, Shepard,” there’s a chuckle in his voice, hands lifting to first grasp and then clutch one of hers between them, the touch warm and familiar and a lot more affectionate than she’d have expected in front of other Turians - and it steadies her, suddenly, her world seeming a lot more right than it had been a moment beforehand.

There’s a disturbance on the Normandy and Liara goes back to check and  _damn_ , does it feel good having Garrus at her back again, falling into familiar patterns and moving much more steadily ahead then they had been previously.

_I’ve always got your six, Shepard._

They locate Victus and his men, and the new Primarch is convinced to join their cause… but it’s really Garrus’ intention to rejoin the Normandy that has her standing tall, grin just a tad ridiculous, happy for even the  _slightest_  bright spot in the misery.

* * *

 

 Arisa deals with every possible complaint and interruption  _before_  she heads for the Main Battery.

There’s things to do - more help to recruit, EDI’s new body to deal with, resources to find, an endless list that seems annoyingly familiar - but once the things that can be dealt with immediately are, in fact,  _dealt_  with, she heads down to the Crew Deck with a very specific destination in mind.

She freezes just inside the doors, catching the sound of voices; Garrus and  _Victus_ , on the comm, talking about  _her_  of all things. She stays where she is, not sure if she should be listening, but ultimately knows that Garrus would say something if it was anything she shouldn’t be hearing.

Eventually, they end the call, and Arisa steps around the corner and moves carefully down the stairs, meeting his smirk with a quiet one of her own.

“Didn’t waste any time getting to work, I see.”

“After what we’ve been through lately, calibrating a giant gun is a vacation. Gives me something to focus on.”

Arisa crosses her arms and cocks one hip, shaking her head, “We’re going to need you for more then your aim, you know.”

Garrus’ mandibles flare wide for a moment, “Oh, I’m ready for it, but I’m pretty sure we’ll still need giant guns - and  _lots_  of them.”

“Can’t argue with that…”

“Yeah.” he seems to wilt slightly, then, posture hunched, “So… is this the part where we… shake hands? Wasn’t sure what the protocol on reunions was, or if you even still felt the same about me.”

Her heart jumps briefly, wondering again how they’d managed to find each other in this mess of a universe. “Garrus…”

“The scars are starting to fade,” he continues, babbling, “I remember they drove you wild… buuut, I can go out and get new ones if it’ll help.”

He’s stepping closer now, and Arisa does the same, letting herself smile openly, “I haven’t forgotten our time together.”

“Well, I’ve been doing some more research on human customs. I didn’t want to… presume anything-”

_Okay, enough rambling_. Arisa cuts him off, stepping right up against him and leaning in to plant a kiss right on his mouth plates, not holding back any emotions from her expression for once.

“ _That’s_  the protocol on reunions,” she says, resting a hand at the rim of his armor, “ _Ours_ , at least.”

“The vids mentioned it might go something like that.” he coughs, confidence momentarily slipping, “I mean, I’d  _hoped_  it would…”

Arisa lets him take her hands, staring down as the mismatch of them before giving him a grin from beneath her lashes, “I  _missed_  you, Garrus. I tried to send a message, but it got blocked.”

That earns her a chuckle, his grip on her tightening, “Glad to know my romantic, uh…  _skills_  made an impression. And that you  _didn’t_  ignore my message.”

She blinks, surprised warmth flooding her chest, “You tried to…?”

“What can I say? You leave a pretty big space when you’re not around,” Garrus’ mandibles pull in for a moment, an expression she can’t quite read, “Six months is nothing compared to two years, of course… and I knew you were  _alive_ , this time, but still…”

Arisa pulls her hands from his to slip them up and around his neck, pressing down gently beneath his fringe till he gets the point and bends, foreheads touching in what she’s learned is a Turian kiss. She hears him inhale and grins, nuzzling him.

“I think the calibrating can wait a little longer.” she breathes, scratching one nail purposefully beneath his crest, “Don’t you?”

Garrus’ response is nearly a growl, “Lead the way,  _Commander_.”

**Author's Note:**

> Kudos and comments make my day!


End file.
